


Fight For Me

by coolgirl3890, Emile



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Body Modification, Dalish is dubbed Danish, Drug Abuse, F/M, M/M, Meredith starts out transphobic, Minor Character Death, Multi, Prostitution, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolgirl3890/pseuds/coolgirl3890, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emile/pseuds/Emile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A young Doctor, a man from the streets, a prostitute trying to break free, a gay man exiled from his family, a man who lost it all and two young soldiers walk into a therapy group... this must be the worst joke in the history of Kirkwall."</p>
<p>Fenris can say whatever he wants, but the friends he made here might save his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be add as we go, but I will warn beforehand that a lot of triggering things will come up in upcoming chapters.
> 
> Main writing by [Emile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Emile/pseuds/Emile)  
> Plot and character development by [Emile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Emile/pseuds/Emile) and [coolgirl3890](http://archiveofourown.org/users/coolgirl3890/pseuds/coolgirl3890)  
> Beta read by [coolgirl3890](http://archiveofourown.org/users/coolgirl3890/pseuds/coolgirl3890)
> 
>  
> 
> **T E M P O R A R Y H I A T U S**  
>  I’m taking a short hiatus from writing [Fight For Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5672293/chapters/13067203) (mostly because I have been very busy with the regular updating of [Thorned](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6384595/chapters/14620654)!) and when I’m back, it will be with a fresh outlook and probably a slightly different style of writing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders' POV

Anders had been warned that the group would temporary reside in an old gymnasium, but he still hadn't been prepared for the sudden wave of nerves that overcame him with the old building towering over him. The building remind him of school, and so did the nauseous feeling rising at the pit of his stomach.

Joining a therapy session for the first time really did somewhat feel like the first day of school. Just more voluntary, though it could hardly be called so in his situation. Hawke had urged him to go after finding Anders motionless and unresponsive in his bed, riddled with depression for the third time this month.

His in-take had been by phone, in between his busy work hours as a doctor. Giselle, this therapy's counselor, assured him that he would be allowed to miss a few work hours if he told the higher-ups he would be attending therapy. Anders wasn't sure how to feel about his boss knowing he was going through therapy, but at least it would help him to keep his job.

Anders looked around helplessly once the door closed behind him, but didn't allow his gaze to wander long enough to actually take in too many details. Counting himself, there were six attendants so far, but no one seemed to take the initiative to greet the new guy. Some even seemed annoyed by his presence, which didn't really help.

There was an uncomfortable silence as he walked to one of two empty seats, but the silence was suddenly broken just before Anders sat down.

“Wait!” a young woman cried out, almost panicked. Isabela was a beautiful woman and her hips had a natural sway as she walked. Her voice was full and warm “Pretty boy, I wouldn't sit there if I were you.”

Anders sheepishly looked over at the empty chair, then back to Isabela, “What's wrong with this chair?” he asked, trying to hide the mild annoyance coming up. Anders hoped they were past the whole 'teasing the newcomer'-thing at this stage of their lives.

Isabela point at the chair behind him “That's Fenris' chair,” she pointed out with a somewhat cheeky smile “He doesn't really appreciate anyone else taking his place.” instead, she gently guide Anders towards another chair “This place is better for you. Vallen used to sit there, but she stopped coming a few weeks ago.” Anders didn't dare to ask.

A middle aged woman hurried in just a few seconds later, apologizing before taking a seat at the head of the circle. Everyone politely greet her, and Anders knew it was childish, but he felt somewhat insulted that they hadn't done the same for him.

“Welcome, I apologize for being late again,” she spoke, and Anders recognized her soothing voice and thick accent immediately. The woman from the phone call. She looked exactly like she sound: gentle and warm.

 

* * *

 

He was about twenty minutes late when walking in, disrupting the introduction round Anders, Isabela and the other clients had found themselves in. They had been stuck at Isabela and Dorian Pavus though, because those two seemed to enjoy talking about themselves. They surprisingly managed to do so without actually telling anything about their home situation or their... condition, so to say. Anders silently wondered what they were actually doing there.

The door slammed closed behind him with a loud bang, but the man who had caused the disruption didn't seem to care. His hair was bleached white, hands buried in his pockets. Anders couldn't help staring at him as he walked past and took a seat on the only empty chair that had been left. Fenris, he remembered. It was a strange man, to say the least.

“What did I miss?” Fenris asked casually, leaning back and pulling his sleeves down until the palm of his hands as he got comfortable. He seemed completely unfocused, narrow eyes shifting around everywhere.

Giselle gave Fenris a warm smile despite being frustrated with the man for being twenty minutes late. Again. "We were introducing ourselves to the new member of the group today, maybe you could introduce yourself to him?" she tried.

Fenris looked around, seeming a little confused until he noticed the unfamiliar man sitting in Aveline's seat. A hard expression and a deep frown took his features and it made Anders feel deeply uncomfortable, as if he should say sorry for something. "Yes, sure," Fenris looked away from him as he spoke "My name is Fenris. And that's all you need to know."

Giselle smiled, seeing the fact that Fenris actually spoke as enough of a victory for today.

Anders felt guilty for thinking it, but he couldn't help but wonder why Fenris looked so … strange. For one, Fenris' ears were shaped like you would imagine those of an elf, whether they were purposely modified to look like that or not left Anders wondering. Along with the multiple piercings, the most glaringly obvious thing was his white tattoo that started at his chin and went along his arms.

Giselle looked over at Anders now and gave a nod, encouraging Anders to introduce himself now. A young man sitting next to Anders released a soft snort and crossed his arms, glancing over at Anders.

Anders stood up, slightly embarrassed with everyone's eyes on him now “Uh- Yes. Hello.” he gave a nervous wave "I'm Anders." Some people said hello back. "I'm a doctor. And... I like... cats." This earned a few laughs from the room. Giselle nodded and they went on to introduce the rest of the group.

There was a young man called Sannin: who seemed angry at about everyone, Cullen: who suffered from PTSD and didn't want to talk about it and Meredith: who was a little too detailed about the horrible things she had gone through.

But all Anders could actually pay attention to was the fact that Fenris had been looking at him intently, even chuckling at his fondness of cats. It felt strange.

Once the session had ended everyone seemed to be in a hurry to leave, but as Anders realized he wasn't the only one waiting to be the last when he noticed Fenris still sitting on his usual chair. Instead of leaving before him, the man walked up to Anders and gave a nod towards the door. A silent request to leave together.

"So..." Fenris finally spoke, making sure he caught his attention "You like... cats?"

Anders smiled "Yeah, I do.” he searched along his pocket and took out his wallet to show some photos of Ser-Pounce-a-Lots “Look, I have one at home." he didn't realize why that made Fenris laugh until the man start teasing him.

“Are you inviting me home?” his eyes had a playful glint that made Anders feel strangely warm. Fenris laughed again, now for getting flustered “Sorry, I will have to pass for now," he winked and unconsciously played with a short chain attached to one of his lip piercings "I'll see you next week in therapy."

 


	2. Naivety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris' POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings add for: substance abuse (weed) and prostitution. Also 'whore' being used as a slur.

_“There's this kid, he comes by every other day, just to talk with me, while he seems to be scrambling for money. He told me he loved me. Naive idiot.”_

Fenris brought the joint to his lips and inhaled deeply, coughing when the smoke got stuck in his lungs. Zevran laughed. That asshole. Fenris send Zevran a glare before keeping the joint out of reach from his greedy hands and inhaling again. They were sprawled out on one of the couches at the Pearl, sharing the small stash of weed they had left. Zevran rolled over on his belly to meet eyes with his handsome friend.

“I hope you didn't come over just to blow my weed and complain about therapy,” he laughed, using the distraction of his voice to steal back his joint and taking a long drag of it “I never had a costumer that cost me more money than I gained before.” Zevran winked. God, Fenris definitely hated him.

He groaned and propped himself up on his elbows, stealing the joint back again. It continued going back and forth as they continued talking. About nothing interesting in particular, until Fenris said something stupid. “There's actually a new guy at our therapy group.” He shouldn't have said it.

“I see!” Zevran teasingly blew out smoke in Fenris' face “And I guess this 'new guy' is... handsome, is he not?”

Fenris felt his cheeks become warmer, but told himself that it was a side effect to the weed they were absorbing “Better,” he admitted, expression falling to a crooked grin “He's a doctor.”

Zevran laughed again. He had one of these laughs... if you listened to it for long enough, you couldn't help laughing along. Even Fenris released a soft, albeit nervous, chuckle in response. Zevran knew what he was planning, but he also knew it wouldn't be that easy “Doctors won't just give up their stuff,” he warned, reaching over to the joint again “Believe me,” he inhaled deeply, sucking the last few shots into his lungs “I tried.”

“Of course a doctor won't just give medical drugs to a random whore they bang,” Fenris pointed out matter-of-factly, saying things as they were without consideration.

His friend theatrically grasped at his chest, feigning a hurt expression “You wound me.”

Fenris rolled his eyes, taking the last swig of their joint before putting it out in the nearest ashtray “I, on the other hand, will be his friend.” he continued as if Zevran had asked “You can't say no to a friend.”

The grim expression on Fenris' face while speaking those words almost made Zevran ask, but both of them were literally saved by the bell. “Seems like my break is over.”

 

* * *

 

 

Fenris wasn't entirely sure what had happened after, but he woke up with one of the biggest hangovers he's had in weeks. Or this week, really. He cursed when he looked at the clock. How the hell had he managed to sleep in until three o' clock?! He struggled himself in some old clothing, torn skinny jeans (that had actually not started out like that, believe it or not) and some old raggedy shirt Zevran had lent him one day. It was the prettiest piece of clothing he owned, with colors and all. That man had really gotten to his head.

He started to put in his piercings starting with the three Helix piercings in one pointed ear, then one in the other. An Indrustial piercing in his left too, a Daith piercing in his right and a 'normal' earrings on both sides. A septum piercing, an eyebrow piercing on the right. And... some others.

After he adjust his trusty old combat boots and walked out of the hotel room, locking it behind him and slipping the key into his pocket. Fenris walked towards the old gym building that had gradually became more of a house to him than the hotel rooms he has been residing in the last few months. It was like coming home to walk in, even with all those glares for coming late directed at him, and sitting down on his usual chair.

Giselle welcomed him quietly before they continued their route of 'How was your week?', 'What happened?' and 'How do you feel about that?'. Fenris frowned in annoyance until he noticed who he was actually sitting next to.

“Isabela switched with you?” he whispered, locking eyes with Anders.

The man respond with a soft “She wanted to switch places for some reason,” Anders admit, a little pluzzled about the situation himself, he even send Fenris an apologetic smile “So I guess you're stuck sitting next to me today.”

Fenris wondered what he had done to piss her off, or what Meredith had done to get in her favor, but decide not to ask it out loud. Never look a gift horse in the ass, or whatever the saying was.

He probably should have paid attention, because when everyone was suddenly looking at him, Fenris had no idea what was expected of him until the question had been "If it doesn't make you uncomfortable, would you tell the group if you've ever been in a romantic relationship?" Fenris panicked.

The question ended up being for Anders instead of him, and Fenris felt somewhat relieved. Anders seemed nearly just as distraught about the question as he was though "I dated this guy in college, his name was Karl. He was... the only real relationship I ever had." he slurred slightly, trembled even. Fenris almost felt bad for him.

“I actually-” Sannin cleared his throat, not entirely sure if he should “Anders doesn't want to talk, right? So I can-” both Giselle and Anders himself gave a nod in agreement “Okay, thank you.”

Sannin nervously ran his hands through his hair, so uncontrolled that his hair fell loose instead of in it's usual ponytail, he grasped at his own hair for a long silence. “I loved my best friend,” Sannin admit, wringing his hands together “His name was Tamlen and he was- He was this amazing kid. We grew up together.” his voice started shaking. The name had both Anders and Fenris look up in recognition, but they didn't notice it from each other.

“But I think I found someone new,” his voice was timid now, so different from the sarcastic tone he usually forced “I don't see him much, just every other day. I told him I like him, but... I'm not sure if he likes me back.”

Fenris paled, remembering a conversation he had with Zevran just a day ago. “There's this kid, he comes by every other day, just to talk with me, while he seems to be scrambling for money.” he remembered him saying “He told me he loved me” They had both laughed. “Naive idiot.”


	3. Heartbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sannin's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings add for: minor character death and self mutilation (hair pulling)

~~~~Fenris should probably have talked to Sannin right then, but before he could, he remembered Anders. He might never have a chance like this again. "A gay cat-loving doctor." he hummed "I learn something new about you every session." there was a faint hint of sarcasm, maybe playing on the fact they both barely shared anything with the group.

“Bisexual, actually.” Anders casually cleared up, shrugging his shoulders.

Fenris seemed pleasantly surprised and gave an understanding nod “Me too.” whether his tries to actually befriend Anders were working so far or not, Fenris wasn't sure, but at least Anders smiled at him. Which was... good. Right? He tentatively flashed back a smile.

Sannin had already left.

He swung the door open, getting out in front of everyone else, like running from a stampede. Sannin took a deep breath of fresh air once he was away from the group, giving his reflection in the window a proud nod. This was the first time he had spoken this much and people had actually listened. It was sort of frightening.

His heart was still pounding in his chest as he walked through the street lane and continued until his thoughts on the things he had heard and said at the therapy session finally started to unravel. Sannin could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, but instead of picking up, he canceled the conversation and just looked at the time. At least two hours had passed...

Two hours... Sannin looked at the clock for a long moment, until the numbers had changed twice, and then decided to continue to walk. He didn't want to go back to the hectic of the well-guarded group home. Maybe he could visit the graveyard today instead of tomorrow. Tamlen wouldn't mind.

His nose was assaulted by a mixture of too many sweet scents at the same time as he entered the flower shop, but Sannin tried to ignore it, walking straight forward. The woman behind the register greet him excitedly, though a little less excited than usually.

“Sannin! It's so good to see you!” she leaned over the register desk to wrap one arm around him and for a moment, he felt at home. Merrill always had that effect on him. She seemed to have that effect on everyone. “Your supervisor called, you were supposed to be home hours ago. We were so worried about you!”

There was an apology stuck on his tongue, but he couldn't get himself to actually apologize. Sannin had many things to apologize for, but not being home on time was not one of them. “I just... I was planning to visit Tamlen.” he quietly admitted.

Merrill's expression fell at the mention of their old friend and she squeezed Sannin's shoulder “But it's Friday today,” she reminded him “Sunday is Tamlen Day.”

Sannin broke at those last three words, a soft sob leaving his lips “I miss him.”

He got pulled close again, as close as they could be with the register in between them, and Merrill whispered in his ear, rubbing soothing circles along his back. “It's okay,” she promised “It's alright. I miss him too. I'm sure they won't be angry at you for being late.”

Guilt for his feelings had been wrecking him, confusing him even more than usually. He still missed Tamlen, he really did, but he was also falling in love. Something that he promised would never happen again. “I don't know what to do...” he whispered.

“That's okay...” Merrill replied, holding him until Sannin stopped shaking “I will call Hawke to stand in for me.” she promised, sending him a shaky smile “We will visit Tamlen, and then I will bring you back home.”

Sannin gave a quiet nod, wiping his tears away with the sleeve of his shirt. They took a bouquet of blue forget-me-nots with them, as they always did and Sannin left a folded letter with a poem behind, as he had every week. People could write a book from the little notes he had left.

 

I loved my friend

He went away from me

There’s nothing more to say

The poem ends,

Soft as it began-

I loved my friend.

 

― Langston Hughes

 

* * *

 

 

Once he was home, he finally looked at the phone calls he missed. Five missed calls from his supervisor, two from Fenris and one from... Zevran. Sannin could feel his heart skip a beat even when just reading his name. It felt like betrayal.

Sannin looked at the number for a long time before dialing it. A shock went through him when being greeted with a smooth voice and he hung up before either of them could say another word. He cursed himself before throwing his phone to the other side of the bed. With a pained sound, he grasped his own hair between his fingers and started tugging. “I know,” he whispered into nothingness “I know.” he couldn't do this.

The next morning he woke up with locks of his own hair in his hands and the worst mood he had had in weeks. When he left home 'to do groceries', or so he had convinced his supervisor, Sannin was surprised to run into Fenris. This was the first time they met outside of therapy and neither of them was sure how to act.

Fenris had never been good at small talk, no matter how much he tried to improve, so he simply released a deep sigh in a try to release tension instead. He let the words run through his mind over and over, and then finally spoke them. “You should stop seeing Zevran.”

“I know.” Sannin admit, though they both had very different reasons in mind. “I will.” he promised “I just- I need to pay one last visit.” Fenris released another sigh, exasperated this time and Sannin sent him a glare “I still owe him money, okay?!”

Fenris rolled his eyes, the wordless communication much easier for both of them than using actual words, though he forced himself to mutter “I'm going with you.”

Sannin groaned and started walking with an annoyed “Whatever” and they walked the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. It was strange, he should probably feel uncomfortable with the strange-looking man at his side, but Fenris made Sannin feel at ease somehow.

The comfortable atmosphere was broken as soon as it had appeared. Zevran was there. Right there. Sannin's mind was racing, eyes focusing on the man. He didn't look good, full of bruises, and a man was standing over him. Forcing his lips on him. All his muscles tensed and his body moved on his own accord.

“Sannin!” he barely heard Fenris calling out, but Zevran was just in time to step back as Sannin slammed himself into his client.

Fenris flew after him as they fought, trying to pull Sannin away from the man, but more people had started to gather and got entangled in the fight. Fenris was mostly set on getting Sannin to safety, and staying alive, for godsake! But Sannin wasn't thinking. He had changed into a whirlwind of kicks and punches, unable to get a grip on himself. His grip on reality slipped as he continued the rain of punches. All he could see was red.


	4. Seeing Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings add for: blood, violence, body modification and hinting to physical abuse.

The fight had died away when Sannin started to get a grip on reality again, his nose painfully pressed against the pavement. The blood he inhaled through his nose had him gagging and coughing in a try to breathe again. His body felt like he had been hit by a car. He groaned and looked up hazily in a try to figure out what exactly had happened. He scrambled to his feet when he noticed Fenris was kneeling down not far from him.

Zevran was talking to an inhumanly huge guy a few steps away, but Sannin didn't bother reaching out to him. Instead, Sannin pressed himself to his feet and tried to take a few steps ahead. He could feel his knee giving in at every step. A loud **crack** echoed when he sank to his knees next to Fenris and, once his brain had caught up with his body, he released a blood curdling scream.

Fenris' face was bruised and bloodied, one of his lip piercings forcefully ripped out and leaving a deep gash. Blood was dripping down various parts of his face, but he still forced his way to his friend and took a hold of his shoulders “Sannin!” he called “Sannin, are you okay?”

“I think they should be brought to the hospital.” The man talking to Zevran pointed out, showing the ordeal with mild interest. His words elect a deep sigh from his tiny friend.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Sten looked at Zevran with a mildly puzzled expression and took off after him “My name is not Sherlock,” he casually reminded his friend, stopping in his track just a few steps away from Sannin “I'm Sten.”

 

* * *

 

“I don't need help, I need to go to my friend!” Fenris snapped, giving the nurses looking over the waiting room a hard time as they tried to offer him medical help. He begrudgingly accepted a napkin to press against the gash on his lip, but nearly dropped it to the floor when he recognized the man that had hand it to him. “Oh, shit!”

Anders laughed despite himself, despite of how worried he had been when finding Fenris bruised and bloodied in the hospital's waiting room. "You couldn't just wait to see me again, could you?"

Fenris smiled behind the napkin "What can I say, I've become rather fond of you." Anders chuckled in response and gestured Fenris follow him. Once he sat down on the treatment table, Anders gently pushed his hand away from his lip to examine the gash at his lips. It was quite deep.

“Those will need stitches,” Anders pointed out, then looked over his bruises, eyes soon pulling towards the blood stains on his shirt. "Besides you face, where else does it hurt?

"It doesn't matter," Fenris muttered, feeling obviously self conscious "The only thing we need to worry about is my lip right now." Anders tried to comfort him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Fenris released a sigh and looked away from him again.

Anders hated doing this, but it was still his job, and he actually cared enough for the man to be insistent. "Fenris, as a doctor I have to check every part of you to make sure it's okay. If you like, you can take your shirt off yourself and can put it back on when we're done."

Fenris let out a heavy sigh as took off his shirt, his arms shaking just slightly "Just- Nothing leaves this room, okay?" There were old scars, deep ones, especially littering his back. Anders held his breath when he realized they looked like he had been hit by something sharp, something like a whip.

There were other scars that could have either been self inflicted or inflicted by someone else, most littered his arms and torso, but Anders tried not to pay attention to them. Instead he kept his attention at the fresh bruising along his chest and the punch that had caused it seemed to have ripped open some old scarring. “I... I will need to stitch some of these too.”

When looking closer at some strange formations below Fenris' skin, Anders gasped in horror. He had heard of body modifications before, but had never seen them up close. The bolts and staves along Fenris spine made Anders want to scream at how dangerous they could be to his health, but the professional part of him took over.

"I'm going to put you on some stronger painkillers for the stitches, you'll be awake but won't feel anything." Anders pointed out, a little surprised when Fenris agreed to go along with him so easily. He seemed almost eerily calm with the situation. Fenris looked at the other man work, but not much seemed to actually reach him anymore.

Anders was done stitching up the wound when Fenris fell asleep. The painkillers probably played a big role in that, he told himself. In truth, Fenris had just been so tired... both physically and mentally, that he hadn't been able to stay awake much longer.

The young doctor nearly collapsed now that Fenris had fallen asleep, the reality of the situation suddenly dawning on him. Official hospital procedure was to call the patient's next of kin to inform them of the situation. However, Fenris was asleep and had no cellphone on him to look through for contacts. They might have been acting like friends for the past week, but he barely knew anything about the guy.

He looked over Fenris and pulled a hospital blanket over him to prevent him from getting cold, looking at his face for a moment. He looked so different when he was asleep, Anders realized, without that almost permanent frown, he looked much more peaceful than he usually did. He almost didn't dare to think it, but he even looked rather... cute.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Fenris woke up feeling like he had been hit by a truck, or worse. He pressed himself up from the hospital bed and looked around in a daze, just to find Anders had fallen asleep on the chair at his desk. He woke him up with a soft chuckle “Hey, if you don't mind, I will go home now.”

"You're going to need someone to drive you home, because you're in no condition to be walking around right now.” He pointed out, stretching his sore limbs. Anders quietly cursed himself for falling asleep in such an uncomfortable position.

He hadn't expected the helpless expression Fenris was throwing at him when he looked up again. An uncomfortable silence dragged on until Fenris dragged out the word "Well..." and looked at him almost pleadingly "Can you drive?"

Shit, he looked like a kicked puppy.

"Fenris... I can't. That is really against procedure." Anders felt horrible when he saw his expression fall. God... “But if you take the back door, they won't have to see us leave together.” he gave in. Fenris send him a lopsided smirk.

When they reunited in the car, they were both laughing, though Fenris soon enough looked back at the hospital with a worried expression. “Don't worry,” Anders spoke, as if reading his mind “Sannin is going to be okay.” Fenris gave a quiet nod, not entirely believing him.

While driving, Anders had trouble keeping his eyes on the road with Fenris sitting next to him “So where do you actually live?” he asked. Fenris tensed up for a moment, but looked out of the window in a try to hide it. He watched the world pass by from their car. “Do you know that new apartment building in New Town?”

When Anders gave a nod, Fenris mirrored him “It's there.”

About fifteen minutes later they arrived and Fenris got out of the car, giving Anders a last wave. He walked towards the door and waited there until Anders had left. He looked around about three times until he was sure no one could see him, before releasing a sigh and walking off towards the old rundown hotel he temporary lived in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for not sticking with one POV this chapter, but I couldn't stick to one and convey everything I wanted for this chapter at the same time. I also kind of broke the one chapter is one therapy session rhythm we had going on, which I guess makes this more of a filler? Despite all those faults, I still hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	5. Charging In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krem's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a short hiatus (the reason will be add as a foot-note for chapter Six) I am back with a new chapter! This chapter was supposed to be written from Meredith's POV, but I ended up rewriting it from Krem's side of the story instead because of reasons.
> 
> Warning for: violence, cursing and transphobic behavior.

Krem stretched out his arms and sat up with an undignified groan, shaking off Bull's heavy arm as he did. He rubbed in his eyes with the palm of his hand in a try to get rid of the sleep in his eyes. Another soft grunt as he rolled his shoulder joints, enjoying the temporary lack of restraints in movement. He was hanging backwards, looking at the world up-side-down and released an aggravated sound when he caught sight of the alarm clock next to Bull's bed.

“Boss!” He shot up and elbowed the huge man in his ribs “You promised to set the alarm!”

The muscular man propped himself up on his elbow as he watched Krem dress himself, letting out the rumble of a laugh “You actually planning to go there?” Bull asked, raising one of his thick eyebrows. Krem was frantically searching for his binder, just to have the other man finding it and throwing it his way “Why?”

“Because-!” he pointed out, aggravated as he struggled to get the tight fabric over his head, then squeezing it around his chest “I nearly killed someone.” the way Krem said it was like he had confessed to squashing a fly, his voice far too leveled. “The court ordered me to go and I don't need to give them any more reason to want to lock me up.” It was something he had already told their leader about a hundred times before.

Bull didn't seem to care much about legal demands though, giving a lazy shrug. "The keyword is 'nearly', Krem." He pressed with that ridiculous smile of his. The type of smile Krem always rolled his eyes at, but gave him the distinct feeling of being home at the same time.

“I am pretty sure that, from the other side of the line, the keyword is still 'killed'.”

He struggled to tie his shoes, already putting them on so his socks wouldn't get sticky on the alcohol-stained floor of their shared house. As soon as he got out of Bull's bedroom, he could hear a child crying in the distance and Krem cursed inwardly “Danish! Stitches!” He called out, looking around the apartment. He knew he didn't have to look for his father, so called out to the main baby-sitters instead. No reply came.

Krem ran his hand through his hair and walked towards the small room where the child was sleeping, finding his baby-sitters asleep on the floor instead. With a roll of his eyes, he tapped the side of Stitches' head with the point of his boot. “Sehan is crying.” He pointed out needlessly, his voice barely raising above the insistent crying.

“So he had ever since Alta left.” He groaned. Stitches stretched out his long limbs while he spoke, then nudged Danish awake “It's your turn.”

Krem could hear her curse, 'For søren!', whatever that meant.

As he made his way to the door, Rocky intercepted him with a bowl of cornflakes and quietly made him sit down with him and Grim. Those names? Not their real names. Their 'boss', the leader of the gang, had a knack for nicknames and none of them really seemed to care. Krem could even say he liked his nickname more than his full name.

After Krem had quickly made his way to the right address, a tattooed man with bleached hair walked in on him just as he reached the door.

They pushed the door open in unison and Krem froze on the spot as soon as his eyes met with ones he was all too familiar with. Looking over the rest of his new therapy group, he wondered what god had cursed him.

Cautiously, he made his way to the only empty chair left, since Fenris had already taken his place next to Anders. Just when Krem was about to settle down, the chair was yanked away underneath him. He tumbled down and landed on his tail-bone hard enough to make him see stars. “What the fuck was that good for?” He snapped.

Meredith was scowling down at him, holding the chair by her side almost protectively. “It's Sannin's.” she pointed out angrily “Go sit somewhere else.”

Krem scrambled up and seemed ready to jump her, but a warm and lulling voice broke through the tense silence and made him look up “Meredith, be reasonable.” Giselle, or at least he guessed this had to be her, spoke and made her way over to them “Sannin will not be able to come for a while and our new-”

“No!” she interrupted angrily “Why would you already be replacing our friend with some run-down gang member who can't even hold her own?”

He rubbed his back end in a try to soothe the dull pain, glaring at Meredith in the meantime. Krem wanted to jump at her, but it would feel like a loss. Instead, he released a low chuckle “You know your argument is weak when you have to resort to misgendering people to make your point.” he accused.

His glare suddenly became almost just as sharp as Meredith's was furious, hot and cold meeting to cause an uncomfortable tension. “I'm also pretty sure you aren't allowed to judge from your position.”

Krem remembered encountering Meredith, Cullen and other members of the Templar-gang with their own. Bull had been there to defuse, but he had been ready to kill those bastards right then. You don't deal illegal drugs, not the type they dealt and especially not on their streets. Krem had been very clear about what he would do the next time he would run into them. But in this situation... it would hardly be fair, and pretty much impossible, to actually do something right now.

Especially not with Giselle and his fellow clients breathing down his neck.

He saw Cullen - or he was pretty sure that had been his name, never really talked to him – was in withdrawal, which was... good, he supposed. At least it would be on the long run, but Krem couldn't help a sound of disdain when he looked Meredith over. “Look at you, I can practically smell the lyrium off of you.”

Meredith nearly jumped as she got up off her chair, other hand curling around the one she had held on to for a while now. Krem didn't budge though “Why come here if you're just going to keep taking it? You're wasting everyone's time!” Cursing loudly, she hurled the chair at him.

Krem raised his arms to shield his face from the impact, winching just slightly as the chair hit it with bruising force and then clattered to the floor. He hesitantly lowered his arms and looked down at the chair, trying to ignore the angry episode Meredith seemed to be having. Insults were hurled at him, but he simply continued frowning at the chair.

“That was... a waste of a perfectly fine chair.” he finally spoke, and for just a short moment, Meredith finally shut up and looked at him. Krem smirked. “Can't imagine Sannin would be happier finding his chair broken than having someone else sit on it though.”

He knew that would set her off, but couldn't help it. “Don't you dare to call his name, you Bitch!” Meredith seemed all but ready to pummel him to the floor. The world around them seemed to suddenly spin too fast as people started getting into motion, but Krem could only hear the almost toxic insults hurled at him for now, feeling himself becoming hot with rage. “You stupid cunt! Go back to your freak show, where you belong!”

He moved forward to jump her, but was stopped by two tanned arms wrapped around him from behind, keeping him grounded. Krem shouted, kicking back in a try to struggle loose. Dorian wouldn't budge.

Meanwhile Cullen had closed in on Meredith to grab a hold of her arm, twisting it behind her back.

Fenris had taken protective stance to shield Giselle from the fight, while Anders and Isabela had simply watched. Ander had been frozen in place, overwhelmed by the suddenness of the violence, while Isabela had watched with barely hidden amusement.

“This..!” Giselle broke the thick silence, gesturing between Krem and Meredith. Her face was contorted in barely concealed rage and the fact that she finally spoke up alone was enough to shut everyone up “Is not what we are here for.”

“Now, go back to your seat.” There was reluctance on all parties to do so, but Dorian gradually let go of Krem, sending him an apologetic smile as he went back to his seat. Fenris followed suit, taking back his place next to Anders. Krem send Meredith a last glare as he took Sannin's chair of the floor, turning it around so he could sit on it and lean forward with his arms resting on the backrest.

Meredith was still seething with anger and rolled her shoulder as soon as Cullen released her and went back to his seat too. She angrily turned towards their group counselor. “I am very sorry Giselle, but I will not stay here a moment longer with this...” she gestured towards Krem with disdain “Thing in Sannin's place.”

Giselle looked at her with genuine surprise first, but then her eyes became hard “Then leave.” she replied “We do not accept discrimination of any kind between these walls.” Meredith grit her teeth, swallowed whatever reply she had wanted to snap at the woman and left with her head held high.

“So... what the fuck is her problem?” he asked with a nervous laugh, but stopped abruptly when he noticed the warning looks shot at him. Krem nervously looked at the clock, noting that the argument that had felt like an eternity, just lasted for less than fifteen minutes.

Yikes. 35 more minutes of awkward looks and drama.

There had been a tense introduction round where most only told their names, though Dorian, for some reason, seemed to be particularly chatty today. He was sending Krem playful glances and smiles along the way.

Now, he was used to innocent flirting, even to less innocent affairs, but now seemed hardly the time. So Krem decided to pay it no mind. Rich snots like Dorian Pavus couldn't always get what they wanted. His own introduction had been short and simple. “Yeah, hello. My name is Cremisius Aclassi, but friends call me Krem.” he had introduced, nearly bursting out in laughter at the monotone 'Hi, Krem.' that rose from the rest of the group in a trained response.

While the fight had seemed like it lasted for hours, the rest of the session flew by just like that.

When Krem left last, Giselle had asked him to stay to have a word with him, he let the door close behind him and tried to piece together what he had gotten himself in to. Luckily Bull and Skinner soon came to pick him up, loudly talking about their plans for that evening. Or at least Bull was talking. “Krem!” he called out “How was your... what's it called again?”

Krem chuckled and jogged up to them, then fell into their pass “Therapy was fine.”

“Just 'fine'?” Skinner pressed, giving him a look.

He just shrugged and confirmed “Just fine.”

They dropped the subject, went out drinking, picked up some women and Krem had soon almost forgotten what had even happened earlier that day. Probably better like that, too.


	6. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sannin and Fenris' POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for: bigoted (and in my opinion wrong) use of the bible ~~and suicide~~. Also over-emotional rambling as end note.

Once you are dead, there is nothing that can be done to you,  
or for you, or with you, or about you,  
that will do you any good or any harm;  
that any damage or decency we do accrues to the living,  
to whom your death happens,  
if it really happens to anyone.  
  
The living have to live with it.  
You don't.  
  
Theirs is the grief or gladness your death brings.  
Theirs is the loss or gain of it.  
Theirs is the pain and the pleasure of memory.

\- Thomas Lynch

 

 

No one except Fenris and, surprisingly, Sten had been visiting him after he had been moved to a higher-level protected facility. It felt like they had done it more as protection for the outside world than for his own. Sannin couldn't imagine how this... this _isolation_ , could be good for him.

“But it's Sunday,” he protested, making aggravated hand movements as he did so, “Sunday is _Tamlen_ day!” Sannin's hair had gotten thinner and his cheekbones were protruding, making him look even more distraught than he had felt. He was gaping at the man as if he was doing him a personal wrong.

His name was Sebastian and he had been volunteering at their group home in the name of his church. “Sunday is the day of God, Sannin,” he tried, _again._ “We're taking all the residents to church tomorrow.”

Sannin nearly threw something at him “I do _not_ believe in God, Sebastian!” He snapped.

“I'm sorry,” Sebastian spoke, but he did so with clenched teeth, not sounding very sorry at all “But we cannot allow you to go out without supervision for now, and we will need all of us when-”

“Bullshit!” He wouldn't accept it. If any god would even exist, they would have never stopped him from visiting Tamlen. They wouldn't even have allowed him to die, wouldn't have them live apart. Sannin wouldn't have been there, with _Sebastian_ instead of his friends.

 

In the end, Sannin didn't have much of a choice. Two days later, he found himself in church. Sebastian was the one preaching, looking beautiful and regal as he spoke the words of God. His beauty wasn't to him like Tamlen's had been, or Zevran was now, but it was undeniable.

Once the session was over and Sebastian made his way off the pedestal, Sannin patiently waited for the man to have time for him “I got a question for you.” He finally spoke as they were sitting next to each other, refusing to make eye contact.

“Anything.” Sebastian promised warmly, trying to send a comforting smile, but Sannin refused to look up to him. To see someone so uncomfortable in the house of God... it was truly saddening.

Sannin looked away first, then finally looked up at him “Is it true that homosexual people will go to hell?” He sound frightened and Sebastian felt a sharp pang of guilt. Oh... he truly shouldn't have brought him here. He hadn't even considered that he could- Sebastian breathed in shakily, unsure of how to reply.

He fold his hands to rest on his lap, shifting to be able to face Sannin “Are you asking it to me as a person, or to the church in general?” Sebastian tried, trying to stop his voice from wavering.

“Does it matter?” Sannin asked, frowning. “Shouldn't it be the same?”

It should be, they both knew that much, but Sebastian knew it wasn't that simple. Not when it came to this. It took a while, an almost painfully awkward silence, for him to gather his thoughts. “I honestly think that it would depend on other sins committed, but if I were to quote the bible... ' _Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor men who have sex with men nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God._ ', 1 Corinthians 6:9 and 10.”

He looked at Sannin, took in his defeated expression and reached out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Sebastian pulled back as soon as Sannin jumped at the touch and quietly apologized. “Will you follow me outside for a bit? We could _walk_ home together, that is, if you don't mind walking next to _this_ -” he gestured to his tunic theatrically and smiled warmly when it pulled a hesitant giggle from Sannin.

All the way home they talked, or Sebastian did, about the bible, rewritings, and misinterpretations. It did little to comfort him, but Sannin simply nodded and forced a smile in a try to give the young priest some peace of mind. His eyes lingered at the graveyard as they passed it.

 

God willing to prevent evil, but not able?   
Then he is not omnipotent.  
Is he able, but not willing?  
Then he is malevolent.  
Is he both able and willing?  
Then whence cometh evil?  
Is he neither able nor willing?  
Then why call him God?

\- Epicurus

 

“I won't be able to join your side.”

He was alone, talking to no one in particular. At least no one anyone else could see. Even if anyone would pass their shared bathroom, his hushed voice would barely be noticed. Sannin had been muttering to himself more and more lately, the symptoms getting worse after his change of medication.

“Maybe it's better that way...” he muttered, feeling himself grow sleepy through the damp water “I wasn't made for heaven.” Sannin reached out into nothingness, but felt someone's hand take his. With a relieved breath, he took his soaked towel, wrapping it around his head and turning around face-first into the water as if simply turning over in his bed.

The darkness surrounding him was strangely comforting...

 

* * *

 

 

It was just passed three in the morning when he received the phone call.

“My name is Sebastian Vael, is your name Fenris Danarius?” He had been annoyed at the used name at first, but a cold sensation washed over him at the distraught voice on the other side of the line. “Something terrible happened.”

 _Something terrible..._ he raked his mind over the possibilities, then suddenly realized where he had heard that name before “Sannin?” It escaped Fenris in a gasp, as if someone had just knocked the wind out of him.

There was a long silence on the other side of the line, though Fenris could hear the commotion around Sebastian if he concentrated on it hard enough. There was loud sobbing and sirens, and it made him desperate to block off the sound again. “What happened?”

“Sannin commit suicide.”

The words hit him like a brick, made it all more official. Final.

Fenris inhaled sharply “How?” He asked, feeling anger welling up “ _How_ could you have let him _do_ that? He's supposed to be protected!” Fenris was furious, hands tensing around his cellphone “Where the _fuck_ was his protection when he killed himself?!”

More angry accusations followed, all felt just as true as the other, so Sebastian let him. He let him yell until he was out of words to say and only ragged breathing could be heard on the other side of the line. And then, when everything had gone silent for a moment, he whispered “I'm sorry. I couldn't stop him, I didn't even know- Just a few hours before we had been _laughing_ together.” Sebastian shook his head, still unable to believe it “I'm _so_ sorry.”

He had been the first person on a list of names and phone numbers Sannin had left behind, so the conversation couldn't take much longer. Whispering “Me too.” Fenris hung up.

It hadn't just been that list left behind, also various letters, some to groups and some to individuals, drawings, poems. Fenris wondered how long his friend had already been thinking about killing himself, working out the details. What had been the last push that got him to take the last step? Was there something they could have done? He spend the rest of the night wondering.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [In memory of Chris Almon.](http://www.forevermissed.com/chris-almon#about)
> 
> It was January the 25th, 2016, just passed three in the morning when I received the message. It was send by Roy, one of the few people of Gendereurope that still contacts me regularly. He told me he found the online condolences of one ‘***** Almon’, followed by the link.   
>  I didn’t really understand why he send me that, though the last name should have tipped me off. I guess I just didn’t want to know. Then I saw the photo of *****, all prim and proper, with piggy tails and a dress. Only it wasn’t really a girl. He never had been.   
>  “I’m pretty sure it’s Chris.” Roy had continued, I don’t think I will ever forget those words. “I’m sorry.”   
>  “Me too.” I replied, and that were all the words I could find. I was sorry too.   
>  I didn’t sleep the rest of the night, I just cried.
> 
> Chris, I love you and I will never forget you. May you be in the memories of the people who matter as the person you were, instead of the person your parents wanted you to be.
> 
> Feel free to leave something on his memorial page, even if you never had the chance to personally get to know him.


	7. Broken Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I advice you to listen to [this sound track](http://8tracks.com/emile8k/broken-bones) for maximum effect. You might also notice some changes in writing, more about that in the end notes. ~~I wanted it to kind of feel like an ending.~~ I hope you all enjoy!  
>  That said, this chapter also comes with a warning for extensive use of the word 'fuck', because angrily saying that predicts Fenris over all mood pretty well this chapter.

Sebastian found himself in church, hands fold in prayer and forehead resting against the knuckles of his index fingers. He had been here before, just not for quite a while. Not on this side of the sanctuary. Not with this much... doubt. It wasn't until he unfold his hands and looked up at the ceiling painting that the church's Father walked up to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "He is with god now." the man said, meaning all the best, but only fueling said doubt. "Father, can I ask you something?"

"I would like to no longer cite from the King James Bible," he fold his hands together again, more out of habit to contain his nerves "I truly do not believe it captures the true meaning of Christianity." God couldn't have possibly wanted _this_ , for one of his children to be driven to leave this world so soon. "I hope you understand that something like that will take time to be introduced." The Father respond solemnly and Sebastian gave an understanding nod "Then I hope you understand I will not be able to, in good consciousness, continue my work here until it is." He spoke, slowly raising to his feet.

He didn't dare to look at the referent Father, looking down at the floor instead "I hope that I will be welcomed back into church once the time is there." Sebastian looked at him, hopefully, but Father just gave a slight nod "I hope so too." He said, and Sebastian felt a sinking feeling in his chest. He walked away and didn't turn back.

* * *

The first thing Anders realized was that he knew everyone who was there, two worlds clashing right in front of him. Merrill was clinging to Hawke's arm, face buried against his broad shoulder. She was sobbing, but he was unable to process his emotions well enough to feel for her. Their whole therapy group was there too, except Fenris. Where was he? Even _Krem_ had showed up. If only out of respect, and maybe pity, for it felt strangely... empty. They had been listening to a man who didn't even know Sannin give the usual funeral talk, followed by an awkwardly long silence. Fenris wasn't there to give a speech, so eventually Merrill stepped forward to fill the silence. Dear, couragious Merrill. She had lost someone who might as well have been her brother, and he was standing here feeling bad for himself. Anders rubbed along his temple, exchanging hesitant looks with Krem and Isabela, the latter hanging on to Dorian's shoulder, who hid his face behind his hand.

It didn't feel... real. This wasn't real. It couldn't be.

And like that, after what felt like an eternity, the ceremony was over. Sebastian should have done this, but instead he was simply an onlooker, looking through the small group gathered. He locked eyes with Anders, who automatically forced a slight smile. It felt forced. Everything did. They had looked as the cask was lowered into the grave, watching the last of their friend disappearing under a layer of earth. No one dared to leave.

Meredith was the first to cross the line, storming off while seething about 'getting back to that whore for killing him', Cullen following shortly after in a try to calm her, or at least conceal her voice with his rambling apologies. Everyone left one by one after, until only Anders, Merrill, and Hawke were left standing there. Merrill was now openly crying in her husband's arms. Anders felt like he was invading, so he stayed for another few minutes before saying his goodbyes and leaving.

 

Anders found himself walking around aimlessly, but eventually sat down on a park bench, looking over a small pond. There were a couple of geese with some ducklings, and he watched them thoughtlessly until his phone buzzed him out of his haze. He frowned as he tried to make out the jumbled letters on his screen. A message by Fenris, but almost too unhinged to make out. That was strange. The man send some of the neatest texts he had ever read. But not now.

 

               [ **Fenris** ]  Ndrts, Ineed a drink.

               [ **Anders** ] A drink? :P

               [ **Anders** ] You kinda sound like you had enough.

               [ **Fenris** ]  Pls Anders?

 

It already felt strange enough to send casual messages again, but having Fenris ask him for something, saying ' _please_ ', might be the strangest thing that he had ever experienced. It tugged at his heartstrings in a strange way, even though he knew he should probably be more angry at him for not showing up at his best friend's funeral. He wondered if his current state was the reason why.

* * *

Fenris was completely disheveled, pieces of broken mirror splintered along the room, his knuckles open and bleeding. The blood had dripped and stained both the sleeves of his suit and the floor. He was somewhat glad he was here, in this run down hotel, where no one could find him and people couldn't care less about the noises he had made today. He couldn't go. He had loudly cursed at himself, screamed, but couldn't get himself to go. Fenris couldn't watch his friend disappear forever, he couldn't accept that he was gone. He wouldn't. Shit. He _really_ needed that drink right now. He looked back at the phone when it buzzed again, his sight still blurry with held back tears.

 

               [ **Anders** ] Okay, sure.

               [ **Anders** ] You want out, or should I bring the alcohol to you?

               [ **Fenris** ]   Bring itto me.

               [ **Anders** ] Good, I know your address. ;)

 

He rested back with a content sigh, almost feeling himself drift away. But then he realized, eyes snapping open as he pressed the call button "Anders!" His voice sound somewhat slurred, but not from alcohol. What Anders was taking with him would be the first drop of it he would have today. Fenris rubbed along his eyes "I... might need to tell you something. When I had you bring me home last time, it wasn't really... _my_ home. I will tell you my real address now, so pay attention..."

 

Anders rang the doorbell and had to climb five flight of stairs to finally get to him, but he paused when the door to the apartment opened to him. Fenris looked like a ghost, his knuckles bloodied and smudges of (hopefully?) the same blood along his cheeks and sticking to his hair. He resisted the urge to reach out to clean it, the urge to mend and care. "You... look like absolute shit." He pointed out, and it made Fenris release an undignified chortle.

"Well you look just _fantastic_ yourself," he shot back, then accepted the bottle and opened it with ease "What even is this?" Fenris smelled it and drank it down before Anders even gave him an answer. It was a type of red wine, the only thing Anders had on hands, ironically. Fenris sank down to sit on the bed and clutched at his thin hair, a tick dangerously close to the one Sannin had. "Well... _fuck_." He soon felt the bed next to him shift and glanced over to meet Anders' eyes. There was a somewhat uncomfortable silence as they exchanged and drank from the bottle for a while.

Fenris was the first to speak "They must have been angry," he muttered drunkenly, the bottle empty already " _You_ must have been angry. Someone not showing up at their best friend's funeral... what kind of person _does_ that?" He was rambling, and Anders didn't know what to say, because he partially agreed. Yes, he had felt anger and frustration when the silence fell and Fenris didn't step forward. And he had gotten more confused the longer he thought about it. But seeing Fenris like this... drunk, angry,  _broken_... he felt that familiar pull at his heartstrings again. "I wanted to go, I swear, but I couldn't do it. _I couldn't_ \-- What's the use? He isn't there anymore. And he would have hated anything I had to say anyway."

And _fuck him_ , Fenris thought, fuck Sannin for leaving them. Fuck him for writing him a note to ask him not to follow. Fuck him for telling him it wasn't his fault, and fuck _everyone_ around him who repeated those same words to him. Fenris didn't want to hear it.

He cursed himself for even caring, cursed the emptiness and sadness of losing yet another person to suicide brought with it. He hated it. He hated Sannin, and he hated himself for _caring_. Who the fuck cared about them anyway?

Anders could see the emotions in flashes, though it was hard to decipher and he tried not to worry about what his upcoming actions would mean to their fragile friendship. Instead, he reached over and wrapped an arm around Fenris. "It's not your fault, you know. No one thinks it is. Everything will be alright." He felt him push against his chest angrily, but didn't budge, holding on to him tightly, but overwhelmingly gentle.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?" Fenris exclaimed, voice breaking, but Anders simply told him it was alright again. "Stop! It's not!" He argued, angrily slamming his fists to his chest now, but with less aggression with every hit "You should be angry! You should _hate_ me!" But Anders did not hate him, and Fenris couldn't for the love of god understand _how_ he didn't.

He was the person who couldn't visit his mothers'- Not even Sannin's - funeral, because he couldn't handle it. He was the person who couldn't save anyone. How could Anders _not_ hate him?

"Stop telling me it's okay! It's not-! He is _gone_! _Sannin is gone!_ It's-!" His voice was growing weaker, his arms slowly moving to cling to Anders now instead of pushing him away. "It's my fault... it's all my fault. I let him die." And Fenris cried.

He cried in loud and broken sobs, holding on to Anders tightly as he carded his fingers through his hair. Fenris felt weak, so weak... but he knew Anders would keep him safe now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m taking a short hiatus from writing [Fight For Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5672293/chapters/13067203) (mostly because I have been very busy with the regular updating of [Thorned](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6384595/chapters/14620654)!) and when I’m back, it will be with a fresh outlook and probably a slightly different style of writing.  
>  **The story will from then on focus most on Anders and Fenris, the changing POV will be kept to the writing for[Stick and Move](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6213742/chapters/14236321).**


End file.
